“J…Julie?” I said tentatively.

       “Yes, Ryan?”

       “I'm feeling kind of...”

       “Kind of what, Ryan?”

       “Julie, I really need some relief,” I said.

       “Relief?”

       “Julie, you know what I'm talking about,” I said exasperatedly.

       “Oh, are you saying that you want to try for a chance at masturbating?” she asked.

       “Julie, it's been three months,” I whined.

       “But are you really sure you want to take the chance?” she laughed.

       “No.”

       “No?”

       “No, I'm not sure, but I'm going crazy,” I said.

       “So?”

       “So... I'm not sure, but I want to try,” I said reluctantly.

       “Okay, Ryan, but remember our agreement,” she said.

       How could I forget?  When I married her two years ago she made me sign a binding agreement as to how our marriage would go.  I got to have her as my wife and lover for the first month.  I got to have sex with her as often and wherever and however I wanted.  It had been heaven.  After that my dick was hers.  She kept it locked up. 

       After that first month I could have relief by asking for it at any time but with a catch.  I had to draw a ball from a sack that started out with ninety-nine white balls and one black ball.  As long as I got a white ball I was allowed to masturbate.  If I got the solitary black ball my life as a free man was over.  If I drew the black ball I agreed to be castrated, become her slave, give up all my possessions, sign a divorce decree and be sold to whomever she wished.  It was a punitive agreement but one that I had approved of because…well, I had been crazy for her and I’d thought that once I’d made love to her she would relent.  I’d been wrong. 

       Over the course of the past two years I had drawn twenty balls from that sack.  All of them had been white.  Every time I drew a ball my chances increased of drawing a black one, which meant that I had waited longer and longer between times I was willing to take the chance.  Right now my chances were about one in eighty, not bad but not as good as they had been when I started.

       “Julie, isn't there any way...”

       “That we can change our arrangement?” she interrupted.  “No, Ryan, we've been over all that.  You agreed to this before we got married.  You took your month of having me however you wanted and now you take your chances.”

       “I know, but...”

       “Ryan, do you want to masturbate or not?”

       I did want to.  I knew it was tempting fate but it had been three months and I just couldn't stand it any longer.  I had to have some relief.  I looked at her pleadingly but there was nothing but ice in her eyes.

       “Yes,” I said.

       “Go get in position then,” she said.  “I'll be there in a minute.”

       I went into the third bedroom that we had modified specifically for this activity.  I undressed, strapped myself into the frame and locked my wrists to the bar.  She made me wait thirty minutes before she entered carrying the sack.  She unlocked the device on my dick that insured I couldn’t cheat on our arrangement, opened the neck of the sack and placed it so that my right hand could reach in.

       “It's not too late, Ryan,” she chuckled.  “As long as you don't reach in and pull out a ball you're not in jeopardy.”

       I was scared.  I contemplated not actually taking a ball but in the end my need overpowered my good sense.  I wormed my hand into the bag and closed my hand around one.  She pulled the sack away.  I kept the ball tightly in my fist.  Neither of us knew what color it was.

       She put the sack down on the table, picked up the Burdizzo castrator and captured my balls with it.  I looked down in horror.

       “Julie,” I asked in alarm, “what are you doing?”

       “Just getting ready,” she explained.  “I have a feeling.”

       “You have... you have a feeling?”  I gulped.

       “Yes,” she said happily.  “I think it's a black one.”

       I looked at my fist with dread.  The chances were huge that it was white but somehow my wife had an uncanny ability at times to see the future.

       “Aren't you going to open your hand?” she asked sweetly.

       “Julie,” I asked uncertainly, “can I put it back and select another?”

       “Ryan, that's not part of our agreement.”

       “I know but... just this once?”

       She shook her head in exasperation but she laid the Burdizzo back on the table, picked up the sack and put it next to my right hand.  I pushed my hand inside, dropped the ball I had and picked another.  She laughed, put the sack on the table and the Burdizzo back around my balls.

       “Okay,” she chuckled, “you got your second chance, now show me what you have.”

       I slowly opened my fist to reveal a black ball.  I stared at it in disbelief as it rolled out of my hand and fell to the floor.  A searing pain hit me in my crotch as she closed the handles, destroying my manhood forever.

       “I guess the first one must have been white,” she laughed.

       I couldn't believe that it come to this.  My mind was in a daze as she unlocked my right hand and put the divorce papers in front of me to sign.  She put a bark collar on my neck, shackles on my hands and feet and released me to drop to the floor on all fours.

       “Well, slave,” she said, “it was fun while it lasted.  Let's put you in your new home while I go about arranging your new life.”

       I tried to protest but the bark collar put me on my face.

       “No more talking for you ever, slave,” she giggled.

       She used a leash to lead me into the living room alcove and had me climb into the cage.  That cage had been there from the first day I had moved in with her just waiting for the day I drew a black ball.  Somehow I had never truly believed that it would end up being my home.  I crawled in and lay down in shock.  She locked the door.

       “Don’t go away, sweetie,” she joked.  “I need to call your new owners.”

       “My new owners?” I wondered.  That didn’t make sense.  The chances had been slim that I was going to be available today.  Yet she acted as if…  I watched in disbelief as she picked up the phone and dialed.

       “Hello, Marge?” Julie said.  “I told you he wouldn’t last much longer.  He’s ready for you to pick up.”

       “Marge?” my mind screamed.  That woman was a Nazi and her husband wasn’t any better.  I had only met them once when Julie had dragged me to their house for dinner a month ago and I had hated them on sight.  There was something twisted and sadistic about them that I couldn’t put my finger on.  I shuddered thinking about living as their slave.

       “No, I’m sorry, Marge, you can’t.  I’ve already destroyed them,” Julie laughed.  “I couldn’t help myself when I saw that black ball.”

       “She couldn’t help herself?”

       “I know what you wanted but it was too good to pass up and it was part of our binding agreement,” she continued, “so I…”

       I could hear Marge screeching at her through the phone.  Julie pulled the phone from her ear and smiled at me while she waited for the tirade to end.  When Marge sputtered out Julie put the phone back to her ear.

       “Look, Marge, I said I was sorry,” Julie said.  “He still has his thingy that you can torture and I’m sure that you’ll find plenty of other ways to slake your sadistic nature.  Do you want him or not?”

       She listened for another few seconds and hung up the phone.

       “They are coming right over,” she said to me.  “I think they are afraid if they don’t get you right away that I won’t leave anything for them to have fun with.”

***

       When the doorbell rang thirty minutes later I was beside myself.  It had finally sunk in how the rest of my life was going to be and I was frantically looking for a way out.  Within seconds of the doorbell three pair of feet appeared in my field of vision.  I backed to the rear of the cage which brought chuckles.  Julie unlocked the cage door and beckoned me out.  I crawled out and she handed my leash to Marge.

       “Enjoy, Marge,” Julie said.

       “Oh, we will,” she purred.  “I have so many things planned.”

       “I’ll bet you do,” my wife laughed.

       “I just have one question, Julie, if I may, before we go,” Marge asked.

       “Sure.”

       “I know you said he was horny and was going to ask any time to be allowed to have a chance at masturbating,” Marge said, “but how were you so sure that he was going to pick a black ball?”

       I wanted to know also how she had been so sure.  I looked up and my wife was grinning down at me with the bag of balls in her hand.

       “That was easy,” she giggled.  “I took out insurance.”

       “Insurance?” Marge asked.

       She opened the bag and Marge looked in.  She looked up into my wife’s face in astonishment.

       “But…but, they’re all black,” Marge stuttered.

       “Exactly!” my wife said smugly.